


Road to Venezia

by Da_Vinci_101 (Metonic_Cycle)



Series: Only a Bird [1]
Category: Assassin's Creed - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe- Kinda, And Leo is struggling to keep it together, Angst, Ezio has no fucking clue he's crushing on his own bestie, Humor, Idiots in Love, M/M, Mutual Pining, Pining, Pre-Relationship, Rocky Road Memory Sequence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-21
Updated: 2020-12-21
Packaged: 2021-03-11 02:49:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,720
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28218000
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Metonic_Cycle/pseuds/Da_Vinci_101
Summary: Leonardo snorts.I prefer to think of it as a giant eagle,he thinks. He can’t help but take a second to glance over at Ezio. Of course, since theartistais still underneath the carriage, trying to fix the damage done to the wheel, all he can see is Ezio’s armoured boots.Ezio.The source of his inspiration.The source of his emotional turmoil.His best friend.His heartbreaker.
Relationships: Ezio Auditore da Firenze & Leonardo da Vinci, Ezio Auditore da Firenze/Leonardo da Vinci
Series: Only a Bird [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2067156
Comments: 4
Kudos: 35





	Road to Venezia

**Author's Note:**

> Since this is sorta AU I guess, quite a bit of dialogue, as well as certain events in this Memory Sequence have been changed. However, some dialogue remains the same.

“Leonardo? Leonardo!”

Ezio bangs his fist on the door, impatience growing. What is it that occupies the _artista’_ s attention so that he doesn’t even hear his best friend right outside the front door? Is he injured? Or had he been captured while Ezio was away? Panic seizes Ezio’s heart at both thoughts, causing it to jerk erratically, painfully, in his chest. No, he mustn’t think like that. For all he knows, Leonardo’s just so absorbed in his own work that the rest of his senses aren’t registering anything.

If he is, then Ezio is intent on getting his attention. “Leonardo, come answer _questa fottuta porta_ right now, before I decide to go break your window!”

A man approaches Ezio, an expression of puzzlement written all over his face. Ezio is glad he hadn’t lowered his hood this time. Nevertheless, he gives the piece of ivory cloth a small tug, pulling it a bit lower over his face just to make sure the man can’t see.

 _“Mi dispiace,_ Messer,” the man speaks, eyes flicking nervously down at the long war hammer looped to Ezio’s belt. The _assassino_ pulls his cape down so as to partially cover it. “But he is gone. Maestro Leonardo was commissioned by a nobleman from Venezia to paint some portraits. The nobleman made all the necessary arrangements for Leonardo to move- to the point of practically moving his entire _workshop_ there! Minus the building. Obviously. It’s quite an opportunity for the maestro, no?”

 _“Sì,”_ Ezio replies, blinking slowly as he takes in and tries to process this information. Leonardo left. For Venezia. Without telling him? Perhaps there just hadn’t been time- yes, that’s it. There hadn’t been any time, and maybe Leonardo planned on sending Ezio a letter later on or something, to tell him where he’d gone. Well, there is no need for that now, since Ezio now knew that Leonardo had left, and where he’s going. _“Grazie mille, amico.”_

 _“Prego,”_ the stranger returns. “May I ask what all this is abo-” Ezio does not wait for him to finish- already, the _assassino_ is climbing up the building wall, leaping from window to wall decoration to lantern post. _“Buon Dio_ , he’ll _break_ his _neck!”_

 _That’s what you think,_ Ezio thinks with a snort as he hoists himself up onto the lantern post, planting his feet firmly on it, before reaching up and grabbing the roof. He had an _artista_ to find.

~~~~

_“Cazzo!”_

Leonardo shakes his head angrily, glaring at the carriage wheel responsible for all this trouble. _Of course,_ it had to break. _Of course,_ it had to break where Leonardo can’t possibly reach without someone to lift the carriage for him. And who is going to be willing to stop to help him, hm? No one! Gritting his teeth, Leonardo gives the blasted piece of junk an angry kick of the boot.

“Lousy, no good piece of _merda!_ ‘Only the _best,’_ eh?! Well, if this is _his_ idea of the _best_ , I’d hate to see what his idea of the _worst_ is!” Leonardo knows it’s not normal for him to be this irritable. But there have been… _factors_ in recent times that have begun to irk him. Is “irk” the right word for it? He doesn’t know, nor does he _care_. He just wants to get away from Firenze, to get away from-

“Leonardo?”

 _Cazzo,_ Leonardo thinks.

Of course. Of course. Leonardo instantly forces the scowl to dissolve from his features- Ezio does not need to see it, he doesn’t need to question. So, the _artista_ whirls around, greeting his best friend with a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

“Ezio? What luck! I… uh… I’ve run into a little bit of trouble,” Leonardo says awkwardly. Scratching the back of his head, he looks away, back at the wheel. The less he focuses on the real source of his problems, the better. Sighing, he decides that it might be best to ask Ezio for his assistance. After all, what are the chances that anyone else who would want to help him will stop by?

Leonardo doesn’t need to make the mental calculations to know the answer.

And he doesn’t even need to ask Ezio. “Let me see if I can help,” he says, his tone leaving no room for a refusal.

“I know how to fix it,” Leonardo replies, “but lack the means to do so. If you could just lift the wagon for me?”

 _“Sì.”_ Ezio walks over to the side of the carriage, weapons on his belt clinking softly with each step. Leonardo tries not to look at him. He hears the wood creak, and sees the vehicle tilting, as Ezio lifts the wagon up. Leonardo squeezes up to the underside, grabbing his tools and getting to work. “What is this thing?” Ezio asks, the bewilderment loud and clear in his voice.

Since Leonardo can’t see what the _assassino_ is looking at, he feels inclined to snark in response, “What you are lifting is a wagon, _obviously.”_

“Very funny. I meant the thing that’s _in_ the wagon,” Ezio clarifies. “It looks like a giant bat.”

Leonardo snorts. _I prefer to think of it as a giant eagle,_ he thinks. He can’t help but take a second to glance over at Ezio. Of course, since the _artista_ is still underneath the carriage, trying to fix the damage done to the wheel, all he can see is Ezio’s armoured boots.

_Ezio._

The source of his inspiration.

The source of his emotional turmoil.

His best friend.

His heartbreaker.

“Leonardo?”

Ezio must’ve noticed Leonardo’s pause. _“Mi dispiace,”_ Leonardo replies, his voice a little too loud, a little too forced. “I’m just a little distracted today. Err- giant _bat_ , you say? It’s nothing, really. Just an idea I’ve been working on… I could not leave it behind.” He gives the wheel’s axle an affirmative pat before scooting himself out from underneath the wagon. “Alright, you can set it down now.”

Ezio grunts as he lowers the carriage back down.

Leonardo keeps his eyes on the wheel of the wagon, trying _not_ to notice the thin sheen of sweat on his friend’s face.

“What is it for?” Ezio asks, tilting his head towards the _artista_.

Leonardo still doesn’t look at him, eyes focused on that singular piece of wood, as he answers, “Well… I shouldn’t really talk about it.” He finally turns his head and sees the interest written in Ezio’s face. He finds he can’t deny his friend this information- besides, what could possibly be the harm in telling him? It’s not as if Ezio’s going to ask to take it for a joyride later.

Wait, would he?

Leonardo tries not to think about the possibility _too much._ “Beh, _al diavolo!_ I can’t hold it in anymore!” He can feel the familiar enthusiasm returning to him, the familiar joy in sharing something truly extraordinary with his best friend. Leonardo steps closer to Ezio, the smile spreading across his lips now genuine. “I think I’ve figured out how to make a man fly!”

Ezio smiles back, though it’s more from amusement than anything else, Leonardo can tell. Suddenly he wonders if it was even a good idea to say anything in the first place. He feels his own smile starting to fall, and he forces it stay put.

“Come on,” Ezio says. “I’ll drive!” Without waiting for a confirmation, or anything of the like, really, the _assassino_ starts making his way to the front of the wagon.

“But I haven’t even told you where I’m going…” Given that Leonardo doesn’t hear a response, he can only determine that his words fell on deaf ears. He jogs over to the other side of the wagon, and reaches up with both hands to grab the bench, when a gloved hand from up top extends itself to him.

Leonardo stares blankly at it, not comprehending.

“What, do you plan on just _walking_ the rest of the way there, _amico mio?”_ Ezio’s voice is playful, teasing. Leonardo’s heart leaps into his throat, suffocating him. Choking him. “Come on, Leo- I don’t bite.”

Leonardo takes his hand, and feels himself being pulled up onto the bench. Before he knows it, he’s sitting beside Ezio. The _artista_ is grateful that his friend hadn’t pulled too hard, otherwise he might have very well ended up in Ezio’s lap.

And _that_ , Leonardo knows he would never be able to live down.

~~~~

To say Ezio is _completely and utterly insane_ would be an understatement, Leonardo realises as he loses his balance and crashes violently, and painfully, into the wagon wall across from him. The impact sets free a string of loud, angry curses.

“Are you alright, Leonardo?” Ezio calls over the din of soldiers shouting, horses shrieking, hooves _thudding_ against the dirt road, and wood creaking threateningly.

Leonardo snaps, “Alright? _Alright?!_ Why, _sì, sì-_ why wouldn’t I be, what with your _impeccable_ driving skills and so forth!” His sarcasm-drenched rant is interrupted as the wagon jerks the other way, tilting at a precarious angle, sending the already quite battered _artista_ flying and smacking into the other wall. _“OW! Cazzo!”_

 _“Mi dispiace,_ Leo-”

The only response Ezio gets is another string of curses as Leonardo’s body smashes into the wall again.

~~~~

When Ezio reaches the docks, where Leonardo is waiting patiently for him, it’s clear the _artista_ isn’t expecting a hug- let alone one being initiated by the _assassino._ Ezio practically yanks Leonardo towards him, engulfing the slightly older man in his arms. Ezio can feel Leonardo stiffening at first for a couple of seconds, and then he feels a pair of hands settling on his back, and a head settling on his shoulder pad. 

“You made it,” Ezio murmurs. “You made it here safely- I was afraid-” He doesn’t finish the sentence, and he receives no response, aside from the other man pressing himself a little bit closer, as if to say, _“But I’m here. There’s no reason to fear now.”_ Ezio grips him tighter.

They stay like that until the awkward _“Ahem”_ from the dockmaster grabs their attention. Leonardo pushes Ezio away quickly, as if he’d been burnt.

Confusion wells up in Ezio’s chest. Had he mistakenly done something to earn this reaction?

“Do you have a pass?” the dockmaster demands, the distaste soaking his voice as he looks Ezio up and down, eyes narrowed.

Ezio instantly decides he doesn’t like this man one bit. “‘A pass?’” he repeats, hoping this will prompt the dockmaster into an explanation. “A pass for _what??”_

“For the boat, obviously,” the dockmaster snaps. “You cannot enter Venezia without a pass, or at the very least, an invitation.”

“Ezio, you do not have a pass?” Leonardo queries. Ezio can see the fear in his eyes, and he knows that the _artista_ won’t leave for Venezia without him- regardless of the fact that Rodrigo Borgia’s men had been after the _assassino,_ not Leonardo.

“An invitation from _whom?”_ Ezio presses, glaring at the dockmaster. He brushes his cape to the side slightly, revealing the arsenal of weapons that’s hidden underneath. The dockmaster doesn’t even seem remotely fazed, let alone _intimidated_. This only serves to bring Ezio further frustration.

“Anyone more important than _you,”_ the dockmaster replies, an almost _smug_ tone now entering his voice. With that having been said, the dockmaster turns on his heel and walks away to speak to another to-be passenger.

Ezio briefly considers just cutting down the dockmaster here and now, but that would cause both him and Leonardo more trouble than it’s worth. And he’s caused enough trouble today as it is.

A faint shrieking reaches his ears, and he tilts his head to view the source- it’s none other than a young woman, who’d somehow gotten herself stuck on a small islet. Perhaps she’d meant to retrieve something from there, and her boat drifted away? Ezio can’t come up with any other explanation.

“Perhaps she can give you an invitation, Ezio?” Leonardo suggests. Ezio looks at him, blinking. Why would she be able to help him? Is she an important person? The _artista_ , as if sensing his thoughts, goes on to add, “Her name is Caterina Sforza, and she is the daughter of the Duca di Milano. Her husband is the Lord of Forlì.”

“Why can’t you just give me an invitation?” Ezio asks. He’ll help Caterina off the islet either way, of course- he’d have be the world’s biggest _culo_ not to. He just doesn’t see why Leonardo can’t just give him an invitation instead?

“I would if I could, _amico mio,”_ Leonardo answers, shaking his head sadly. “But I don’t think the dockmaster would accept it unless it came from someone with as much power as she has.”

Ezio sighs tiredly, nodding. Well, he was planning on helping her out either way. He might as well stop wasting time with pointless questions and get it done. “Very well- I’ll only be a few minutes. Alright?”

“Relax, Ezio,” Leonardo tells him, giving the other man a gentle pat on the shoulder with his hand. “I don’t plan on leaving you behind. I’ll wait as long as I need to.” ~~~~

~~~~

_Venezia._

Ezio had never imagined that the canals would smell so bad. It seemed Leonardo hadn’t either, if the _arista’_ s barely restrained gagging is anything to go by. Ezio wants to laugh, but he knows if he does, he’ll feel bad about it afterwards.

The smell, however, isn’t the worst of it.

No.

It’s the tour guide. Ezio has no clue as to why he finds the man so damn _annoying,_ but he does. Maybe it’s because he’d hoped that he and Leonardo would be exploring the city by themselves, talking amongst each other about the sights. He wants to hear _Leonardo’s_ voice naming off all the landmarks, he wants to hear _Leonardo’s_ voice blathering about their history, and so on.

Ezio tries not think too much about _why_ he wants to hear Leonardo’s voice.

Finally, the tour is over, and he and Leonardo have a moment to themselves. Albeit, a short one, since Ezio does have a job to do, after all. But a moment. Without so much as a warning, he pulls Leonardo into his arms once more.

Leonardo lets out a soft _“Oof”_ from the impact, and after a few seconds, he returns the embrace. They stay like that for a little bit, before Leonardo starts to pull away. But Ezio doesn’t want to let go. He tightens his grip on Leonardo’s cape. “Ezio,” the _artista_ murmurs gently. “Ezio.” Their eyes meet, and after a moment, Leonardo starts to lean closer…

But then he jerks away again. _Just like at the docks…_

Leonardo’s smile is clearly forced, as he stutters, “Sh-should you find yourself n-needing me to decipher another Codex page, do-don’t hesitate to visit. My door is always open!”

Before Ezio can speak, Leonardo’s already turning away. “Leonardo?” The _artista_ doesn’t seem to hear him as he opens the door and starts heading inside. Ezio is about to follow, to question him, to ask what’s going on, why he’s acting so strange- and gets the door slammed shut in his face for his trouble.

Ezio stands there, his gloved hand half-raised, a blank expression settling across his features as he tries to decide whether or not to knock.

_What was that all about? Does this have something to do with him not telling me that he was leaving Firenze? I thought we were…_

Friends?

 _Best_ friends? Ezio may consider Leonardo to be his best friend, but that doesn’t mean Leonardo feels the same. Ezio’s heart, like glass, cracks painfully at the thought.

 _Are we_ really _friends? Let alone_ best _friends?_

A choked noise leaves Ezio’s lips. What _silly_ questions! Of course they were friends. Perhaps Leonardo is just stressed from the trip. Who wouldn’t be? After all, he was almost killed- _~~And it’s your own fault he almost was~~ -_

Ezio whirls away from the door and walks out into the street, ignoring the few odd looks he was receiving from the civilians around him.

He must focus on the task at hand. _Nothing else matters,_ he tells himself as he bounds across several stacks of crates up to the wooden post jutting from the building’s wall.

Ezio knows it’s a lie.

**Author's Note:**

> What to do when you end a fic on a sad note, and still want to give your boys a happy ending? Make a series that'll probably take me forever to finish because chronic infinite multitasking (it's NOT procrastination!)
> 
> Also, as you can tell, I'm experimenting writing in the present tense, and I intend to try to maintain this style for the remainder of this series.


End file.
